


Wolves & Dragons United

by clonmany



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, POV Arya Stark, POV Daenerys, POV Multiple, Season 8 Rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-06-09 14:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clonmany/pseuds/clonmany
Summary: A Game of Thrones Season 8 rewrite. What if in Last of the Starks, Jon has a conversation with Daenerys and Arya about his parentage. From there, Daenerys begins to work together with the Starks as she takes aim at King's Landing and the Iron Throne.





	1. Chapter 1

Daenerys entered Winterfell’s Great Hall. Close behind followed Grey Worm and several Unsullied guards.

She stood at the entrance and looked for Jon amongst the crowd. There was still a considerable number of people milling about in the hall and seated at the long tables. Tankards of ale filled the tables and the celebration never seemed to have stopped from the previous day.

Jon spotted her and excused himself from the group of Mormont soldiers he was speaking with, “Your grace,” he said, then hesitated. She could tell he wanted to say something, but she kept the discussion to the business at hand.

“Preparations are ahead of schedule. The Unsullied will be ready to depart shortly. That will give us a half days march before-...” She paused, noting his expression of uncertainty. “You don’t approve?”

“Truth be told,” Jon replied, “The men are tired. The dragons are injured..”

Daenerys gestured around the hall.“I’m not sure I would refer to _this_ as tired.”

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied. “We’ll depart at sunrise.”

“And that will give them another evening to get even drunker.”

“It.. it would give us a chance to talk,” Jon said. “Before you and I leave.”

“Us?" she questioned, “You told them? After I asked - no, after I pleaded with you not to?”

“Before you get upset, please, give this a chance. You’re all my family.”

Later that evening, after Jon had shut down the festivities in the Great Hall, he asked Daenerys to accompany him.

She cautiously entered Jon’s chambers and scanned the room. Ghost was stretched out asleep next to the fireplace. Seated next to him on the floor was Arya who absent-mindedly stroked the direwolf’s head as she watched the logs burn in the fire.

Arya looked up and gave her brother a slight smile, but said nothing to Daenerys or even followed any common courtesies. No “your grace” or “my queen” as a greeting. Not even a bow of the head.

“Sansa..?” Dany tentatively began to ask.

Jon looked to Arya. “I thought it would be best if it was just us three...” His voice trailed off.

Daenerys didn’t share Jon’s optimism. Arya had been less outwardly hostile than her sister but instead avoided her. Arya had barely even said a word to her when Jon introduced them. What was she even going to say to her?

Jon gestured to a chair next, but Dany remained standing only a few feet from the doorway.

The panic that both Sansa and Arya knew the truth about Jon rose. “Lady Arya, you must understand how dangerous the information about Jon’s parentage is - how we must keep this a secret.”

Arya contemplated her for a moment but then turned to Jon. “You have my word. I’ll keep mine, just as Father kept his.”

“We _all_ need to keep this secret,” Daenerys added. “Your sister-”

But Arya cut across her. “And I can’t believe he didn’t tell Mother. She was horrible to you - and Father didn’t tell her the truth.”

Dany watched Arya, uncertain if Arya understood the significance of the secret she was a part of. But then curiosity got the best of her, and she asked, “Ned Stark didn’t tell his wife?”

“No,” Jon said, shaking his head. “Til the day I left for the Wall, Lady Stark treated me as a constant reminder that her husband betrayed her and broke his wedding vows. She couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

Jon paused and sat down on a truck behind Ghost and Arya.

Finally, he spoke again. “When Father and I said our goodbyes, he told me the next time he saw me, we would talk about my mother. That would have been after I took the Black - after I had given up any claim to the throne."

The mention of Jon’s claim to the throne caused Dany to immediately almost jump. Why would Jon bring this us, she wondered? And as she looked back over to him, she saw Arya watching her rather than her brother.

Jon continued, more to himself than anyone else. “Aemon Targaryen was Maester for the Night’s Watch - and King Robert hadn’t harmed him. So Father must have thought I would be safe once I was a sworn Brother... But would Father have told Lady Stark the truth as well? Would she have apologized?”

Arya leaned back and looked up at him. “She would have felt so guilty. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t tell her? Once the lie started, it grew and grew.”

Again there was silence, only broken by Ghost yawning, then getting up to lay his head on Jon’s lap.

Daenerys’ thoughts were spinning. She wanted to know how Sansa had reacted and whether she had agreed to keep the secret. The mention of lies and the problems they had caused was not something she found encouraging for the Stark sisters keeping Jon’s secret. But what could she do? She began to pace across the room, her arms folded in front of her.

The silence continued and Dany felt she needed to say something. She was about to ask again about Sansa, but instead, a question occurred to her. “I don’t understand why no one knew Rhaegar didn’t kidnap Lyanna? Why they didn’t tell someone they were in love? The rebellion would never have started.”

“Lyanna was betrothed to Robert,” Jon replied.

“And it was all a misunderstanding,” Dany continued. “Everything that’s happened to my family, all over a misunderstanding.”

“Your father did burn my grandfather alive and executed hundreds of men only because they wanted Rhaegar to return Lyanna.”

“Did my father know? That Rhaegar didn’t kidnap her? That they were in love? That Lyanna was pregnant?” Dany questioned, but she knew Jon didn’t have the answers.

Jon continued to gaze into the fire, deep in thought. “Varys was Master of Whisperers during your father’s reign. Maybe he knows.”

“Varys is the last person I would trust with this information.”

“You shouldn’t trust Varys,” Arya interrupted.

“Why?” Jon asked.

“In King’s Landing, a few days before Father was arrested, I saw Varys in the dungeons by the dragon skulls talking with another man - they said something about bastards, and the Hand can be killed, lions fighting wolves and war and savages. They said a name - I always thought it was Karl something. But maybe it was Khal. They called him a savage.”

“Did you tell Father?” Jon asked, alarmed.

“He didn’t believe me.”

“Is Bran able to see this? Would he know what they truly said?” Daenerys questioned.

Arya shrugged.

Daenerys continued to pace across the small room. Her mind was racing. What was Varys doing? What was he up to?

Before Daenerys could say anything else, Jon changed the subject. “Can you tell me about my father?”

Flustered, Dany replied, “Rhaegar....” She looked back over to Arya, desperate to know what else she had heard in King’s Landing. But she sat down on the chair across from Jon. “Viserys always said Rhaegar was a great warrior. But Ser Barristan told me that Rhaegar liked music, he liked to sing and play the harp. He’d go out on the streets of King’s Landing and sing as a minstrel.”

“Sing?” Arya questioned in disbelief, then she looked back at Jon with a smirk.

“Don’t even...,” he warned.

Daenerys continued, “Ser Barristan thought he was a good man. Nothing like our father. But he was always very melancholy, even as a young child. The burden of being crown prince, it weighed heavily on him.”

“But he was married,” Jon said, quietly. “With two small children and he ran off with a teenage girl and started a war that nearly destroyed the whole kingdom.”

Arya said to Daenerys, “He’s not a bastard now, so he needs something else to brood about.”

She smiled back. “It’s unfortunate Jon received melancholy from his father rather than his musical talent.”

Jon shook his head and tried not to laugh. “I’m serious. They were in love. But... he left his wife... The only reason I’m not a Sand is Rhaegar was Crown Prince - the High Septon would do what he asked and annul his marriage.”

“You were born in Dorne, correct?” Dany asked. He nodded. “The Martells couldn’t have had concerns about Rhaegar leaving Elia if they allowed him to hide Lyanna there. The Dornish views on marriage aren’t the same as here in the North - there are bastards and mistresses and the Dornish think nothing of it.”

Once again, Jon stared into the fire and said nothing.

“Rhaegar must have had a plan,” Dany told him. “Dorne tried to stay out of Robert’s Rebellion. Viserys blamed them- they didn’t send their army to crush the rebellion when it first broke out and the army the Martells finally sent was ineffective.”

Arya questioned, “So Rhaegar wanted his father overthrown and thought he’d be named king?”

“Perhaps,” Dany replied. “He must have known the rebellion had started and didn’t do anything to stop it. He must not have foreseen Robert taking the throne for himself.”

“When King Robert visited Winterfell, he wanted to visit Lyanna’s crypt as soon as he got off his horse,” Jon told her. “He still loved her - even after all that time. Robert wouldn’t have allowed Rhaegar to live - even if he knew the truth that Lyanna chose Rhaegar and not him.”

Dany thought out loud, “Ser Barristan told me that the Kingsguard were troubled by my father’s madness but they were duty-bound to serve him. They swore an oath. But everyone was aware of what my father was. They wanted Rhaegar to replace him, but my father would never step down. They must have wanted the rebellion to succeed and Rhaegar stayed in hiding until it was over. But something happened?” She gazed into the fire.

Arya added, “Father had to fight three Kingsguard to get to Lyanna including Ser Arthur Dayne - the greatest swordsman he’d ever seen. Why would Kingsguard be standing guard over Lyanna when Rhaegar and The Mad King were dead?”

Daenerys was still staring into the fire. Quietly, she said, “None of the Kingsguard was in Dragonstone with Viserys and my mother. Jaime Lannister was left in King’s Landing but he killed my father and let Rhaegar’s children and Elia Martell be butchered. They must have known. Viserys wasn’t the heir, Jon was.”

“Did Ser Barristan know about Lyanna and Rhaegar?” Jon asked her.

“Not that he told me. He definitely had no idea about you or their marriage. He believed I was the Targaryen heir. ”

“You still are,” Jon corrected her.

"Ser Barristan wouldn't break his vow to defend my father, even when that meant he stood by and watched my father burn people alive and rape my mother," Dany replied. "He wouldn't side with Rhaegar if he was plotting against the king. But other Kingsguard might have."

After another period of silence, Jon spoke again. “I thought finding out about my mother would give me answers. It would help me know who I was and where I came from. But... Everything I thought I knew about myself is different now.”

Dany began to something, to try to comfort him, but she didn’t know what to say.

Arya awkwardly looked back and forth from Jon and Daenerys and said, “It’s getting late." She gave Ghost one last pat on the head and stood.

Immediately, Dany seized on the opportunity to once again make sure Arya would never reveal the truth about Jon. “You cannot speak to anyone about Jon’s true parentage. Ever. It’s too dangerous for anyone to know the truth.”

Arya replied, “Yeah, Tormund can’t know your father sang and played the harp.” She couldn’t keep a straight face and smiled. “You’re still my brother. No matter what. It’s your decision who to share the truth with, not mine.”

She gave him a hug and rested her head against his chest.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he told her. “After King’s Landing. After Cersei... We’ll have more time together.”

She gave him a slight smile and told them both good night.


	2. Kill the Boy

As the door closed, Jon told Daenerys, “I think that went well.” But he carefully watched for her reaction.

“I’m not as certain.”

“Arya’s warming up to you,” he insisted, but Dany skeptically raised an eyebrow.

Jon let out long exhale in frustration. “This can work out. We’re all family now.”

Dany rose from her chair and cautiously approached him. “It was a mistake for you to tell them.”

But Jon turned away and looked into the fire. “I wish you could have met Arya before... before we all left Winterfell... I wish I could have seen her reaction to the dragons back then. She loved all the stories about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister. She knew all their dragons’ names. Their swords’ names. She’d go on and on about them.”

“She isn’t the girl you once knew,” she replied. “Neither is Sansa. You have to stop thinking of them as they once were. Those girls you grew up with are dead and replaced with...” Her voice trailed off.

“Maester Aemon once told me 'kill the boy, let the man be born'. Let go of all those foolish notions you held as a child, and become a man. But with Arya and Bran... they were such happy children and seeing them now... it’s like the spirit has been sucked right out of them. They’re dead inside.”

Dany placed her arm on his shoulder. He gave her a slight smile and she took both of his hands into hers. “It’s important that they understand they cannot tell anyone the truth about you.”

He pulled his hands away. “They won’t.”

Daenerys started to pace across the small room again in frustration. Jon didn’t understand and she didn’t know if she could make him understand.

Jon remained fixated on the fire as he reminisced. “When I learned my father - Ned Stark - had been arrested and Robb called the banners and was going to war - I almost left the Night’s Watch. I was a little shit- acting like I was the only one to ever go through anything like that. And Maester Aemon set me right. His vows had been tested and he remained true to the Watch. He stayed at Castle Black as his family was slaughtered. But even mentioning the deaths of the Targaryen children - my half brother and sister - brought him to tears. He was a frail and blind old man - what could he have done to save them?”

“Jon,” Dany began to say, but he didn’t let her continue.

“I wanted to go fight in my brother’s war. I justified not going by telling myself I was one soldier. I wouldn’t have made a difference to Robb. I’d just have been killed standing beside him by the Freys. But had I told Maester Aemon my little sister was out there - trying to reach me. That she spent years on her own trying to get to Castle Black and I did nothing?!?”

“You didn’t know. There was nothing you could have done.”

“Arya won’t even say what happened to her. I’ve only heard bits and pieces from Gendry and Clegane and she told Brienne she couldn’t find a boat to take her to Eastwatch so she ended up in Braavos- living on the street as a beggar. If Maester Aemon thought he could have helped you, that you needed him, I don’t know if he would have stayed true to his vows. And if I knew Arya needed me? That Bran needed me? That Rickon needed me?”

“How would you have found Arya in Braavos?” she told him, trying to assuage his guilt. “It’s not your fault.”

“All I ended up doing in the Night’s Watch was getting killed, it was all for nothing.”

“Tomorrow,” Dany said calmly, “You will ride south with my army. You will help me take King’s Landing and destroy the Lannisters. We will avenge the deaths of your father and your half-brother and sister - your true siblings.”

She gently put her hand on his chin and forced him to look at her. “This is the next chapter of your life. Maester Aemon was right. Kill the boy, let the man be born. You aren’t a Stark. You were never meant to be a simple man of the Night’s Watch. You are a dragon.”

“I don’t want-,” Jon started to say.

“And I want to ensure no one ever pressures you to do something against your wishes and against your queen. But I need you by my side. Now more than ever. Leave Winterfell and don’t look back. Help me rule the Seven Kingdoms.”

Jon closed his eyes, deep in thought.

Dany watched him, uncertain if she had gotten through to him or what he was thinking. She needed him to move forward, not dwell on the past.

Impatiently, she finally asked him what she wanted to know the entire evening. “What did Sansa say when you told her?”

Jon’s eyes snapped open and he glared at her. With his fists clenched, he snapped back, “What does that matter?”

“She has the information to destroy me! To destroy both of us! To take away everything I have worked all these years for!”

“She knows I don’t want the Iron Throne. She doesn’t want the Iron Throne. She never wants to return to King’s Landing. The North - that’s what she cares about. Protecting the North.”

She questioned, “So, she will kneel? Declare me the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and pledge her loyalty?” Jon looked away, and she added, “I didn’t think so.”

“It’s complicated... The Northern lords declared Robb King in the North. They fought and died for him - for an independent North. To kneel for another southern ruler... they won’t accept that easily. I should have realized...”

“That you shouldn’t have knelt?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Sending a raven, marching into Winterfell with a large army. It came across... in the wrong way.”

“I came North with my full army to protect the North, and that was somehow wrong?” she argued angrily.

Jon chuckled. “Diplomacy was never my strong suit. What I meant - if I hadn’t told them I had bent the knee in a scroll. If they saw you and your army arriving to help them, not to conquer the North. Maybe the perception would have been different. You have to understand, the Northerners have wanted their independence since the day Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon Targaryen. When my father called the banners to fight the Targaryens after his father and brother's deaths, his men wanted to fight for independence, not for Robert Baratheon. He had to force them to accept King Robert.”

“As you must do. I can name you Warden of the North, but if you are in King’s Landing with me, that leaves Sansa here in Winterfell ruling in your stead. She needs to bring all the Northern lord to heel, and she needs to understand her role. Is that clear?”

Jon immediately looked away. “It will take time.”

“No, you’re making excuses for not doing what needs to be done.”

Frustrated, Jon replied, “The truth about my parents changes everything. Rhaegar Targaryen is Sansa’s uncle by marriage - no different than Jon Arryn. You're family.”

“So, she will kneel?” And again, Jon didn’t respond. “She knows the truth about you and she still refuses to acknowledge that I am the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She blatantly challenges me. And you don't see her as a threat?"

Jon didn’t respond, then searching for some way out of the conversation, he told her, “We have an early morning tomorrow.”

“And you thought simply talking would solve all this?”

“Your grace,” he replied, with a nod of his head. She charged to the door and slammed it behind her. 


	3. The Dragon Queen vs the Red Wolf

Daenerys raged through the corridors of Winterfell and to her chambers, having half a mind to awaken the Unsullied and Dothraki so she could leave immediately.

She found Missandei waiting for her, but she couldn’t explain why she was so upset. She didn’t even know where to begin.

She hadn’t told any of her advisors - even Missandei - the truth about Jon’s parentage. Not that she thought Missandei would share the secret, but she simply didn’t want to see her reaction to the news. Tyrion and Varys couldn’t know the truth about Jon, so there was absolutely no one she could vent her frustrations to.

If Jorah had been there, she would likely have ended up confiding in him, but she feared his response the most. He was loyal but pragmatic. Jon had the superior claim to the throne. He was beloved by his people and trusted as a leader. Would he have told her to step aside for Jon? And Jorah grew up in the North, where an aunt marrying her nephew was seen as inappropriate. He certainly wouldn’t have endorsed their relationship.

She looked out her window, seeing only darkness and wishing she could will the sun to rise so she could leave. The anger and resentment were building but it was hours until sunrise. Her mind was too overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions to sleep. But there was nothing left to do but pace and worry and think.

As her mind went over and over what had been said, she kept going back to one thing: You shouldn’t trust Varys. What had Arya seen? She knew Sansa was the bigger threat, but she at least knew where she stood with Sansa and what Sansa wanted.

Varys, on the other hand, she didn’t. He had brought allies to her, but only because they hated Cersei, not because they supported her or believed in her cause. If the Great Houses of Westeros were given the option of supporting Jon or even Gendry now that he had been legitimized, would they choose someone else instead?

The frenzy of thoughts began to overwhelm her. She didn’t know who she could trust - and is that what happened to her father? While she did acknowledge he suffered from madness, those around him truly were plotting against him. Did that include Rhaegar? Her mind darted from possibility to possibility - what really happened during Robert’s Rebellion? Who had betrayed her father?

She felt nearly as panicked as she did standing outside the walls of Winterfell surrounded by Wights with Jorah barely able to stand. Enemies surrounded her and she had no idea how she could defend herself.

She came to the conclusion that before she left Winterfell she needed to do two things. First, she had to confront Sansa, demand her silence about Jon’s parentage and require that she kneel. The second item of business was to find out if Bran could tell her what Varys had actually said when Arya had seen him in King’s Landing years before. She wasn’t certain if she would have the opportunity to ask him again, and she needed to know who she could trust before she took King’s Landing.

Well before sunrise, Daenerys had Missandei awoke and her Unsullied Guards ready her belongings to be taken out to the wagons. She asked Grey Worm to go down to the Great Hall and report back to her as soon as Sansa Stark arrived.

Missandei looked at her puzzled, but Dany immediately began discussing preparations for departure. While Missandei readied her clothing and then began to braid her hair, Dany continued to detail everything that needed to be done that morning for her army to stay on schedule.

When Dany finally paused and asked Missandei if there was anything she was forgetting, Missandei quietly asked, “Do you think it will be like this throughout all of Westeros?”

“It’s only the North.”

“The Knights of the Vale - they are not from the North, is that correct?” Missandei questioned. Dany nodded.

Missandei pinned Daenerys’ braids into an elaborate style on the back of her head and then helped her into her coat.

“I have heard-,” Missandei said, then stopped as she saw Daenerys’ expression of anger.

“Go on,” the queen urged her, but only because she didn’t want Missandei to feel like she needed to censor herself. If her friend was hesitant to tell her something, she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to hear the information.

“All you have done for the people of the North - all of the people of Westeros, yet they all still hate Targaryens. I heard men from the Vale say they would prefer Cersei to you - even after everything you have sacrificed for them. I asked them why? Why do they hate you so much?”

Missandei paused and then looked away. “They told me terrible things your father did. And your brother did. And all the Targaryens before them. Is it true what your father did to Rickard and Brandon Stark? Is that why the Starks hate you so much?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“They said your father demanded Jon Arryn kill his wards, Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon, and send him their heads - all because they dared question your brother’s right to rape any woman he wanted. That is the reason they said the rebellion happened.”

Daenerys snapped back, “Rhaegar didn’t rape her.”

But they were interrupted by Grey Word. “My queen, Sansa Stark is in the Great Hall.”

The queen gathered her Unsullied guards and headed down to the Great Hall at a furious pace. Northern soldier gathered in the hallways, trying to escape the chill outside, were forced out of their way or else be run over. Some offered hasty bows as the queen passed, but most only looked at her with disdain and annoyance.

In her head, she rehearsed exactly what she wanted to say to Sansa. The message had to be clear and concise. Jon had pledged the North to her, he was Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, and she was obligated to honor his commitment, kneel and swear to never speak of Jon’s parentage. If she refused, then there would be dire consequences.

Despite the early hour, the Great Hall was already bustling with activity. Daenerys and her guards marched through the center of the hall, forcing soldiers eating breakfast to move the benches out of the way.

Seated in the center of the high table was Sansa Stark. In front of her stood Maester Wolkin, Yohn Royce, Ser Brienne of Tarth, Podrick Payne, and half a dozen other men in northern style armor. On the table in front of her were several large sheets of parchment and a small map of the King’s Road. None of them paid any attention to the queen’s arrival.

“The eastern road to the Eyrie will be impassable until spring, my lady,” Yohn Royce said in a very loud, carrying voice that seemed unnecessary for the conversation. “A supply line from the River Road would be a better option, assuming Edmure has been able to hold Riverrun.”

Sansa replied, “I’m not sure Jon will be able to count on support from the Riverlands for the siege, and people there were starving before winter. There isn’t any food to spare.”

“I can send a raven to Riverrun, my lady,” Maester Wolkin said.

Sansa nodded and turned to the maester on her left. She avoided making eye contact with Daenerys, but clearly saw her there and didn’t acknowledge her presence. “Please, but avoid giving too much information in case the raven is intercepted.”

Pod apprehensively looked behind him and saw the queen glaring angrily at all of them.

“Lady Sansa,” Daenerys stated firmly.

Finally, Sansa rose and acted as if she had only just seen the queen. “Your grace.” The rest of the group all turned and most nodded their heads to the queen.

As they all looked at her, she wasn’t sure what to say. The entire speech she had rehearsed over and over in her head seemed completely out of place given the conversation she had just interrupted, nor was it something she had planned to give in front of an audience.

With the queen remaining silent, Sansa said with a scowl, “The Northern and Vale armies will be departing shortly, your grace. Provisions for two months are being loaded into wagons as we speak. Given the short time to prepare, that’s the best we can do. Plans are underway for creating supply lines to support the siege.”

“Thank you,” Daenerys replied, trying to sound pleasant but the anger was clearly evident in her voice.

Both women glared at each other, silently challenging the other. Finally, Daenerys spoke. “Lady Sansa, could I have a word with you in private?”

Annoyed, Sansa replied, “Of course.” She pushed back her chair and then said to her advisors, “Continue without me, I know there’s so much to do.”

Daenerys followed Sansa into the library behind the Great Hall and closed the door. She was quickly reminded of how badly her previous private conversation with Sansa had gone - seated at the same table. Trying to find common ground the last time hadn’t worked, but angrily shouting at her would come off out of place when Sansa was, at least on the surface, being cooperative.

“I wanted to talk to you before I left,” Dany said, stalling as she tried to figure out what to say. To avoid the confrontation she knew would have to happen between her and Sansa, instead, she decided to ask her about Arya and Bran first and get that request out of the way. “This may sound a little odd.. but Arya said something last night... That I shouldn’t trust Varys. She saw him in King’s Landing before your father was arrested. Tyrion trusts him, but Tyrion trusted his sister and... we all know how that turned out.”

“Varys?” Sansa questioned. “He was always pleasant to me in King’s Landing, but his loyalties? He and Littlefinger liked playing their games. What did Arya see him doing?”

“Plotting with someone in the dungeon near the dragon skulls. Perhaps against your father and against me.”

Sansa walked back over to the door and asked Pod to bring Arya to the Great Hall - and make her come if necessary. She closed the door. “Bran might be the most helpful - he was able to tell us what Littlefinger was up to.”

Sansa sat down at the table, but Dany walked across the room and looked out the small window in the corner. “So, Bran can see the past? Tell us what Varys said?”

“I’m not sure how his visions work, but he saw that Littlefinger betrayed my father. If Varys did as well...”

Still looking out the window, Daenerys asked, “Jon told you?”

“About his parents?” Sansa replied. “Well, Jon had Bran tell me. But, yes, I know.”

“And how do you feel about that?” She turned to carefully watch Sansa’s expression.

Sansa’s very controlled and deliberate demeanor faltered for a few moments until she smiled and replied, “I’m happy for Jon that he knows the truth. Being a bastard has haunted him, as has why Father wouldn’t tell him about his mother.”

Dany contemplated how to ask if she had told anyone, but before she could figure out what to say, Sansa turned the question back onto her. “And how do you feel... about Jon?”

“That’s complicated,” she snapped back, not appreciating the question, Sansa’s tone or her constant breach of all protocols. But it was a personal topic and she wasn’t sure she could avoid answering honestly. “I love him. but now... everything I thought I knew has changed... It may seem strange to say, but a few weeks ago, everything was far simpler. We only had to face the Army of the Dead.”

They both exchanged grins, and Daenerys sat down at the table to Sansa's right- and they were seated in the same positions they were during their last disastrous conversation.

Dany continued, “Everyone who knew Rhaegar always spoke of how honorable and kind he was. How beloved by the people he was. And I always thought, how is this the same man who kidnapped and raped a teenage girl and started the war which ended the Targaryen dynasty? It all makes sense now, but that doesn’t mean it’s easier to accept. A tragic series of events resulted in so many deaths and all of our lives changed.”

“A bit more than a tragic series of events,” Sansa corrected.

The queen nodded but didn’t argue the point. “How different our lives would have been if.. if my father hadn’t over-reacted - if your grandfather and uncle hadn’t been killed. Your aunt would have been queen. You would have been the niece of the king. Both of us likely would be in King’s Landing attending balls in beautiful gowns...” With a smile, she added, “And then Army of the Dead would come and kill us all.”

Sansa grinned. “I suppose everything does happen for a reason... Back when I was growing up in Winterfell, that... that would have been a dream come true. To be able to go to King’s Landing and wear beautiful dresses and court a handsome prince... And now, I hope I never go back to King’s Landing.”

Curiously, Dany asked, “Why?”

“I’m home. I’m finally home.”

The door swung open and banged against the wall. Arya grumbled loudly, “This better be important.” She took a few steps instead, then spotted Daenerys. “Your grace, my lady,” she greeted them cautiously as she closed the door.

Daenerys asked her to recount what she saw again. Arya awkwardly slumped into the chair next to the queen and described what she could remember.

Sansa provided more details on what she knew about Varys from her time in King’s Landing. She remembered Varys seeming very calm and certain that everything would be fine when they walked out in front of the Sept of Baelor when Ned Stark was ultimately executed. He had expressed his grief to her privately but seemed perfectly accepting of Joffrey as king - despite how terrible Varys had to know he was.

Arya realized that “he found one bastard” must have been referring to her father meeting Gendry - since Gendry had told her years ago he had met both Hands of the King right before they died and they both wanted to know about his mother. But Dany and Sansa were so deeply absorbed in their own conversation that they weren’t paying any attention.

“And why did you have me drug out of bed?” Arya complained, but Sansa ignored her.

“I trusted Littlefinger and it was the biggest mistake of my life,” Sansa told the queen. “But without him, I wouldn’t have been able to win back Winterfell. I was just a pawn in his games. He played all the sides, and he thought he could manipulate everyone so he was the only one to end up on top. And Varys...?”

“He goes from one king to the next,” Daenerys replied.

Sansa nodded. “When Bran wakes up, I’ll ask him if he can see anything.”

“Thank you,” Dany replied, still deep in thought. “Maybe it’s nothing at all. But, for all my life, I’ve been surrounded by people trying to use me for their own gain, those sent to kill me, those who tried to manipulate me...”

“When Bran, Arya and I confronted Littlefinger about what he had done, it was like taking back control from everyone who tried to use us as pawns in their stupid games. Littlefinger -”

Arya interrupted, “If Father had only listened to me. I tried to tell him someone wanted him dead, and he didn’t listen. He trusted Littlefinger. He probably trusted Varys... We all should have left King’s Landing. If we had...” Her voice trailed off.

‘I know,” Sansa replied to her sister. She gave Daenerys a sideways glare, clearly uncomfortable with her presence with Arya bringing up such personal topics, but then continued to Arya, “And I didn’t want to leave. I was such as an idiot. But I never would have thought... That - that was the last time life was normal. that I felt safe for a long, long time.”

Daenerys looked down at the table. When was the last time she felt safe - perhaps Braavos when she was five? There were short periods - with Drogo and in Meereen - that she thought she would be safe, but it never lasted. After a few moments lost in her own thoughts, she noticed Sansa watching her. She caught her eye and gave her a slight smile. Never before had she thought anyone understood what she went through her entire life. But sadly, perhaps Sansa did.   
She considered saying something about how she could relate, but then Arya spoke.

“I don’t know if I want to know what Bran can see about Varys," Arya told them. “It’s only another reason why Father didn’t need to die.” Her voice cracked and she choked back tears, desperately trying to avoid showing any emotion.

The same was true for her, Daenerys thought. As much as she wanted to know the truth about who had betrayed her father and what happened with Rhaegar - all she would be is confronted with a cascade of events that had caused their downfall. Had one not happened, perhaps all of their fates would have been completely different.

All three of them sat there in silence for a few moments until there was an abrupt loud knock on the door which jarred all of them back to reality. The door swung open and Tyrion cautiously entered and surveyed the room. It must have been a rather curious sight. Daenerys and Sansa both looked distressed and Arya was losing her battle to stop from crying.

“Your grace,” Tyrion said, “The Dothraki have encountered some...difficulties... with the Winterfell stablehands over a... disagreement... regarding the care of their horses. And it seems that one of the Dothraki has caused some injuries to a stableboy. Your presence would be much appreciated to calm the situation.”

“Should I-?” Sansa asked.

Tyrion shook his head. “Jon is trying to talk to the Winterfell stablehands. There’s merely a language issue with the Dothraki.”  
  
The queen told him, “I shall be there shortly.”

Nervously, she waited for Tyrion to shut the door. She was nearly out of time. Her prepared speech went streaming through her mind. Sansa needed to kneel. But the words didn’t come.

She let out a long exhale. “The truth about Jon,” she began. “I understand Jon needed to tell you, but we do not know who we can trust. It has to stay between us.”

Sansa replied, “It will.”

Dany turned to Arya, but she only nodded in response. She contemplated staying longer and letting Jon handle whatever the trouble the Dothraki had caused, but she knew she had to leave.

She rose from her chair and Sansa told her, “I’ll let you know if I learn anything from Bran.”

“I appreciate it." As Dany turned to leave, she gently placed her hand on Arya’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. “And I’m glad we had the chance to talk.”


	4. The Offer

Arya paced back and forth from an alleyway across from the Winterfell stables. It was just her luck that that was where the Queen’s attention was. Her plan was to sneak out of Winterfell unnoticed so she could get ahead start before Jon and his army headed off. If she left after them, she would need to ride hard through the countryside to pass around them then have to stay ahead of their scouts. In the cold, she was afraid that would be too much for her horse and it was a long journey to King’s Landing. And the sooner she got to King's Landing and Cersei, the better it would be for all of them. 

She could hear from several yards away that Daenerys was continuing to debate with some of the Dothraki leaders. Their voices were so loud it was impossible not to hear them. From what she could tell not knowing the language, there were still issues with recovering all the horses which went missing during the Battle of Winterfell. As the Dothraki charged at the Army of the Dead's wall of Wights, many of the horses were terrified by the noise, fire, and vibrations and threw their riders before they even were attacked. Some of those horses did survive, but were badly injured and had been roaming the countryside ever since the battle. Efforts to recover all of them would take weeks longer.

Jon had gone back to ready the Northern army for departure when Daenerys had arrived at the stables, so the queen was left to sort out the situation with the Dothraki and stablehands. Arya knew Jon would want her to go ask if there was anything she could do to help. The Winterfell stablehands were growing weary of the demands of the Dothraki and all the thousands of horses which had accompanied them. The most practical thing to have done is delay leaving, but that was the last thing Arya wanted to bring up to the queen. She seemed determined to leave as soon as possible, no matter how impractical that was.

Arya let out an exasperated sigh. She wanted to leave just as badly as the queen. Simply put, Winterfell wasn’t Winterfell any longer. It wasn’t home. Looking around and seeing how much had changed was a fresh reminder of that.

She had accepted long ago that she would never return to Winterfell. When she left Braavos for Westeros, she had no intentions of ever going to Winterfell. The Hound had told her over and over that Winterfell was nothing more than a pile of rubble and she had believed him. She had imagined the castle walls and towers in ruins and nothing would be left. So, when she slowly made her way over the hill and saw the castle still standing in the distance, he couldn’t believe her eyes. It appeared to be unchanged from what she remembered from her childhood.

But that was a mirage. The walls and towers still stood, but nearly everything she remembered inside had changed. Virtually everyone she grew up with was gone - the stableboys, the guards, servants. The fires had destroyed much of the interior and out-buildings. The stables were nothing like they had been when she was growing up. The Boltons had rebuilt them and many of the other buildings with no knowledge of what they had looked like before.

Jon, Bran, and Sansa had returned - but they weren’t the people she remembered. And they probably felt the same way about her. She knew Jon wanted her to be the same girl he had left 6 years before. And she knew he wouldn’t approve of anything she had done since returning to Westeros. She couldn’t tell him what she had become. 

When she had returned to Winterfell, she wanted to defend Jon and had been upset with Sansa not taking Jon’s side. But after Jon knelt to Daenerys, it was impossible for her to keep defending her brother. Sansa had chastised her over and over for not taking the Northern side in the conflict with Daenerys, The Northern Lords and Ladies -even little Lyanna Mormont - reminded her that Robb was named King in the North and it was disrespectful to Robb’s memory and the memory of everyone who died fighting for him to bend the knee to another Southern ruler.

Then when Jon returned, he expected her to take his side since he was always her favorite brother. She resented being put into the middle of the conflict with Sansa, Jon, and the Northern lords. It wasn’t her place to tell any of them what to do.

The Northern Houses would never accept Jon kneeling to Daenerys. Arya was certain of that. And it meant even more conflict, war, and death for the North. After Jon helped take King’s Landing, Daenerys would expect Jon to return North with her army and force the Northern lords into submission - like Torrhen Stark had to do for Aegon The Conqueror. Jon would have to fight against his own people to make them accept Daenerys. Perhaps it was for the best that Lyanna Mormont had been killed, because it would have broken Jon’s heart to have to fight against her and Arya knew she would never, ever kneel to Daenerys.

Arya had spent so little time in the North in the last 6 years, she didn’t feel like she represented them. Who was she to tell them who to kneel for? She wasn’t there when Robb or Jon were named King in the North. She didn’t understand their concerns. Life was so different now in the North than what she remembered, who was she to try to tell them who should rule? Was it really worth so many lives just to avoid bending the knee for one queen over another? Was pride that important? Maybe her father felt that way. And her grandfather did as well. But Arya had been away from the North too long to understand why it mattered so much.

And now, knowing who Jon really was, would he even be King in the North? What if the Northerners found out? He wasn’t even a Stark. Would they accept him as Warden of the North? She wasn’t sure what to think. Perhaps a long ride was the best way to clear her head.

Impatiently, she checked around the corner again and Daenerys was still outside the stables. She seemed as frustrated as Arya about the delay. Perhaps she should just go get her horse and leave? But she didn’t want an audience or anyone to report to Jon that she left with supplies for a long journey.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do so, but the impulse struck her. What needed to be done had been swirling through her head since the war council. In her mind, she had played out what might happen with a siege of King’s Landing, all the scenarios and when she added what could happen with Jon and knowing he was a Targaryen? She didn’t like the possible outcomes. This was the only option. She knew Sansa wouldn’t be happy, but she had to protect Jon.

As Daenerys walked by, headed out to the Unsullied camp outside the castle walls, Arya tried to get her attention but the queen was still focused on her conversations with the Dothraki and Arya was difficult to see when the Queen was surrounded by so many large, tall men.

She was starting to lose her nerve. Perhaps this was a bad idea, but finally Daenerys noticed her and there was no turning back. “Could I speak with you, your grace?”

Daenerys considered her for a moment, then said something to the Dothraki in their language and approached Arya.

“Lady Arya,” the queen greeted her - although when they had first been introduced, Arya had asked her not to call her lady. Nevertheless, Daenerys had kept calling her that in public. “Did you hear anything from Bran?”

“No, your grace. Sansa was checking if he was awake. This is about the plan to attack King’s Landing,” Arya began.

The attempt at a pleasant smile quickly faded from the queen’s face.

Before the queen could say anything, Arya quickly added, “What if there’s another option?”

“Go on,” Dany prompted, a steely coldness to her voice, but Arya was relieved she was at least willing to hear her out.

Arya looked around to make sure no one could be eavesdropping. But only the Dothraki were nearby. “The objective is to eliminate Cersei. All we have to do is kill her. Tyrion doesn’t want to do it, Jon doesn’t either. Killing a pregnant woman - it’s not pleasant, but it’s what needs to be done.”

Dany nodded in agreement.

“I was on my way to King’s Landing. If I hadn’t heard about Jon taking Winterfell... Cersei would be dead already.”

“You think you can... eliminate Cersei?

Arya nodded, but Daenerys raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. So, Arya explained, “In Braavos, I trained at the House of Black and White. You know what that is?

Fear flashed in Dany’s eyes.

“I left the Faceless Men because I wouldn’t kill innocent people - but those that have harmed my family... I will kill them all.”

“The Freys-,” Daenerys said, in realization. “That was you?”

A slight grin flashed on Arya’s face but was quickly gone. “So you know what I can do.”

“Here’s my plan - Cersei will have spies keeping track of your army. Proceed as planned to King’s Landing for the siege, but don’t rush. Cersei will think she has time. Meanwhile, I need to get into King’s Landing and to Cersei. Jon can’t know. Tyrion and Varys either - they aren’t going to accept this.”

“And Sansa?” Dany asked.

Arya returned a puzzled look. Why did it matter if Sansa knew the plan? “She knows I’m going to King’s Landing to kill Cersei. But not that I’ve spoken to you - or what I’m going to ask you next.”

“And that is?”

“If I do this for you - if I kill Cersei and give you the Iron Throne - then I ask for you to give the North the chance to be free and independent. Maybe they choose to follow you, to bend the knee. But that needs to be the choice of the North, not forced upon them.”

“My army can destroy Cersei’s army,” Daenerys returned. “My dragons can burn King’s Landing to the ground. Without assassinating Cersei.”

“And how many more of your men will die? Northerners will die? Smallfolk in King’s Landing will die?”

“I should trust you? That you won’t take the Iron Throne for someone else?”

Arya shrugged. “I don’t want it. Sansa doesn’t want it. Jon sure as hell doesn’t want it. I think you’re the only one stupid enough to want to sit on that damn throne. All I care about is protecting the North.”

Daenerys glared back at Arya. “I protected the North from the Army of the Dead. The North is part of the Seven Kingdoms. Jon bent the knee.”

“And you’re going to have to fly your dragons back North and turn half the castles into Harrenhal if you expect anyone else to bend the knee. That’s the way it is. Nut maybe there's another option. Aegon the Conqueror never defeated Dorne - they chose to join the Seven Kingdoms. The North could do the same. If you really do want to make Westeros better, then maybe they will choose you as their queen. But they aren’t going to trust you only because of your dragons and army. They know all too well that those dragons and army will be used against them.”

The queen was silent and stood there in deep thought. Finally, she said, “Alright. I have your word?”

“You have my word,” Arya said, “I will give you the Iron Throne. I want your word that you will allow the North to be free - if they so choose - and you will protect Jon. My father protected him for his sister. What are you willing to do for your brother?”

“I will protect Jon,” Daenerys replied, hesitantly. A cart passed close by carrying supplies for the army, and she waited until they were out of earshot. Quietly, she continued, “but if the information leaks out...”

Arya replied, “It won’t be from me.” Behind them, one of the stablehands began lining up horses to be saddled. so Arya switched to the basic High Valyrian she learned in Braavos, “But everyone saw him ride a dragon. Has anyone who isn’t a Targaryen ever ridden a dragon? People will figure it out. My father came home to Winterfell with a baby and his dead sister. People still remember that. What Sam found out - that they were married - the Maesters have that information too.”

The queen replied with a shocked look - realizing that all the times she had spoken in High Valyrian to avoid Sansa hearing what she was saying to Missandei, Grey Worm and Varys, had been understood by Arya.

“Allow Jon to be King in the North. Name him Jon Stark. Anything. Just promise to protect him - make the same promise to your brother that my father made to his sister,” Arya pleaded.

Daenerys nodded. “I will.”


	5. Leaving Winterfell

Daenerys knew she didn’t have time for any more delays. The Unsullied had been patiently waiting to march out of Winterfell since sunrise, but Arya’s offer was an opportunity she had to take. Rather than simply allowing Arya to ride down to King’s Landing, she requested that she accompany her back to the map room so they could discuss the strategy in a little more depth. She couldn’t leave anything up to chance.

A short time later, as they stood looking over the map of Westeros, the queen told Arya, “Ser Davos was able to sneak Tyrion into the Red Keep to arrange the meeting with Cersei, but that entrance may be sealed now that an invasion is expected.”

“I found a passageway out of the Red Keep to the beach when my father was Hand - right after I saw Varys actually. But you’re right, it could be sealed. Maybe we interrogate Jaime Lannister? Find out what ways in are still possible?”

“I don’t trust that he wouldn’t alert Cersei,” the queen replied. She carefully studied the map. “If you sail with me to Dragonstone, you’ll be able to get there faster. But the question is whether you’ll be able to approach the shore of King’s Landing by boat with the Iron Fleet guarding the city.”

“That’s why you need to make Cersei think she has time.”

Dany knew she should delaying leaving, but she didn’t want to give Sansa the satisfaction of being correct.

Instead, she asked Arya, “So, you think you can... if you get into the Red Keep? How...? How will you do it?” She remembered all the times Viserys spoke of the Faceless Men - sometimes he would become suspicious of a person following them and other times he laughed off the possibility that anyone was rich enough to pay the astronomic fee the Faceless Men would charge for his assassination. But for her to actually be plotting with a Faceless Man to kill a queen? It seemed unbelievable.

“I used all the poison I took from the House of Black & White on the Freys,” Arya answered, very matter of fact. She didn’t sound any different than a person discussing weather conditions. “That limits my options, but I’ll play it by ear. I’ve always wanted to slit her throat.”

Daenerys smiled, finding it all very amusing to be speaking of such things in a casual tone. But before she could say anything in response, they heard heavy footsteps, and then the door swung open.

“There you are,” Tyrion said, adding a hasty, “Your grace.” Jon and Davos followed close behind. All were dressed in heavy traveling cloaks.

Jon told her, “The Dothraki have mounted up. The Unsullied are in formation awaiting your orders.”

Daenerys looked up with a guilty expression. How was she supposed to explain what she was doing without revealing Arya’s mission?

But she didn’t need to say anything. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, Arya told them, “Sorry, that’s my fault, I wanted to tell the queen something I remembered from Stannis’ siege of King’s Landing.”

Arya received strange looks from all three of the newcomers, but she ignored them and focused her gaze on the map. “When Stannis tried to take King’s Landing, Tywin Lannister had control of Harrenhal here. And he was able to take his army to King’s Landing in two days to stop Stannis’ invasion. As far as I know, Littlefinger was the last lord of Harrenhal. The Lannister may still have control, but it shouldn’t be difficult to take. You take control of King’s Road from the North to Harrenhal, that allows you to use the Vale and Riverrun to supply the army. From there, you launch the siege of King’s Landing.”

“That wasn’t during winter. And those men were all on horseback.” Tyrion said tentatively. “And how do you know about that?”

Arya smirked. “I was right there in Tywin Lannister’s war council when he drew up the plans. Besides, what good are the Dothraki in a siege? And how much food is needed for thousands of horses in winter?”

Davos looked at Jon and shrugged. “She has a point.”

“And another thing,” Arya continued, “Ser Davos, would you be able to smuggle someone into King’s Landing - with siege preparations underway?”

Davos seemed apprehensive. “That’s not going to be easy."

Arya explained, “We could use spies to tell us what Cersei’s defenses are - and to see if the smallfolk could be encouraged to rise up against Cersei. Maybe they need a little push in that direction?”

Tyrion looked up at Jon. “Worth the risk, I suppose.” He walked over to the map. “We position our forces at Harrenhal while sending men to sneak into King’s Landing. We get a better idea on Cersei’s defenses and see if there’s any way to rally the smallfolk against her without a siege.”

Daenerys nodded, acting as if this was the plan all along. She couldn’t believe that Arya would straight up lie like that on the spot without anyone the wiser.

So, the revised plan was set. Arya and Davos would go with Daenerys to Dragonstone, while Grey Worm would travel with Jon, the Unsullied, Dothraki, Northern army and Knights of the Vale down the King’s Road to take Harrenhal and drive any Lannister soldiers out of the Riverlands.

Both dragons would go with Daenerys - despite Jon’s protest that Rhaegal should travel with him. It would be easier to strike King’s Landing with the dragons based at Dragonstone. And the smallfolk seeing a dragon flying over the countryside and landing at the burned-out ruin of Harrenhal might not be the best first impression of the return of dragons to Westeros.

They all nodded in agreement to the plan and Jon said he would go tell the Dothraki and Unsullied they would be departing momentarily.

“I have one more item to take care of,” Daenerys told him. He looked curiously at her, and she felt the need to explain. “I need to speak to Sansa. It will only take a few minutes.”

He looked back at her apprehensively, but she didn’t elaborate.

She wasn’t sure how she would even find Sansa - she didn’t see her in the Great Hall. The delays were the queen’s prerogative - but the entire army was growing restless. Luckily Podrick was waiting in the courtyard for her and had a message from Sansa to meet her in Bran’s chambers.

“Were you able to learn what happened?” Daenerys asked as she entered. She didn’t have any time for small talk. But she was met with piercing glares back from Sansa and Bran which were nearly as frigid as the temperature of the room.

Bran was seated next to the unlit fireplace in his wheelchair while Sansa was standing at the window - which had a view of the Winterfell courtyard.

“Well, what Bran can see...” Sansa began, but looked to Bran uncertainly.

Bran very plainly stated, “Varys met with Illyrio Mopatis beneath the Red Keep. Varys said war between the Lannisters and Starks was inevitable and wanted Khal Drogo to not delay his invasion of Westeros.”

Daenerys wasn’t sure what to think. Varys had sent assassins to kill her. Was he playing both sides? “Was he lying to Illyrio?”

“That I cannot tell from that single conversation,” Bran answered.

“But Bran saw,” Sansa said, urgently, trying to get the queen‘s attention. “Illyrio Mopatis - he told Varys that if one Hand can die, so can another. They were talking about killing our father.”

The queen looked from Sansa to Bran, uncertain how to respond to this information. She had just been doing that very thing - plotting to kill someone - mere minutes before. Ned Stark was the Hand of the Usurper and conspirator in the rebellion against the rightful king. She had no complaints if Varys was plotting against him. But she certainly couldn’t say any of that to Sansa.

Choosing to ignore Sansa entirely, the queen retorted sharply to Bran, “Then find more conversations. Determine what Varys was doing.”

“It’s not that easy,” Bran told her.

The queen demanded, “I need to know if I can trust him.”

Sansa stepped in, trying to calm the situation. “It takes time.”

“My army is departing within the hour.”

She noticed Sansa roll her eyes in response, but she kept her focus on Bran. But Bran was not phased at all. He remained emotionless and stated, “I cannot give you the information you are looking for that quickly.”

Daenerys snapped back, “Send word when you do. Not by raven.” She didn’t give either of them time to even respond. The chill in the room made it almost unbearable. She felt the overwhelming urge to leave - the room, Winterfell, the North, maybe even all of Westeros. Nothing was clear or straightforward as it had been when she was preparing for her invasion.

As the queen began to leave, Sansa replied out of mock respect, “Your grace.”

She didn’t want to give Sansa the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten under her skin, so she gave her a vaguely pleasant smile and quickly exited.

She had lingered at Winterfell far too long. The sooner she returned to Dragonstone - the sooner Cersei would be dead. She had avoided taking King’s Landing too long as it was. Perhaps the vision was a sign - don’t delay the invasion.

Jon greeted her in the courtyard with a large grin, but it faltered when he noticed her expression looked less than pleased. “Did you talk to Sansa?”

She nodded, but before answering him, she shouted in Dothraki to some of the Bloodriders waiting for her. They rode off to carry the instructions to the rest of the Khalasar.

She tried to smile and told Jon, “Yes. We talked ... well, it’s Sansa, but it’s a start, I suppose.”

Jon was satisfied with the response. “See, I told you everything would work out.”

She didn’t argue. She didn’t trust what Sansa would do with the information about Jon’s parentage, but perhaps it had gained her an ally in Arya. Was that worth the risk?

Jon continued, “I reckon the next time we see each other - it probably will be in King’s Landing.”

“Indeed,” she replied. She looked up at Sansa who was watching them from the battlements. “Perhaps I’ll even be sitting on the Iron Throne.”


	6. Approaching Dragonstone

Arya watched from the bow of the lead ship as the faint outline of Dragonstone grew larger and larger in the distance. The sun had begun to peak over the horizon, but the dense layer of fog scattered the rays casting a dim, ominous glow across the water. It was impossible to see much of the island - or even spot the dragons flying overhead. But from what she could make out through the haze, they were almost there.

When she had first set off on her journey, she had been looking forward to exploring Dragonstone. But after spending over two weeks on a ship with Davos and Daenerys’ advisors - her patience was wearing thin. She hoped she could leave as soon as possible for her mission so she could finally have some peace, but quite a few of the details still hadn’t been set.

She assumed during the voyage she would have had more than enough time to plan for King’s Landing, but that had been easier said than done. Daenerys was the only one who knew that Arya intended to kill Cersei and the queen spent most of the day flying on Drogon. When she came on board, there were far too many others in close proximity to have a private conversation about her clandestine mission.

Jon must have asked Davos to keep an eye on his sister, Arya surmised. The Onion Knight was frequently checking on her and making small talk, which was more parental-like interest than she had had in a very long time. It reminded her more of her journey to King’s Landing with her father than any of her travels since. Part of her didn’t mind. While The Hound and Yoren protected her and cared about her in their own ways, it was nice to have someone actually concerned about her like her father would have been. Perhaps it was a little annoying when Davos commented on how much ale she drank or how dangerous King’s Landing would be - but her father probably would have said the same thing.

But that made it all the more difficult for her to tell him what she truly was and why she was going to King’s Landing. He saw her as an innocent girl who had been tossed out into the world after her father’s death. He didn’t know what she had seen or what she had done or who she had killed.

If she had had the opportunity to tell The Hound she was a Faceless Man, she would have. But she never had the chance. Back when she was his hostage, The Hound had mocked her when she said she knew someone in Braavos - so simply proving he had been wrong would have been reason enough to reveal the secret. But she also wanted to see the look on his face when she told him what she had done to the Freys. A grin, perhaps? Admiration? Laughter?

But she didn’t want to see the look on Davos’ face when he learned what she did to Walder Frey or his sons. Or how he would look at her once he knew the terrible things she had done.

While planning for Arya’s actual mission to King’s Landing had stalled out, Daenerys’ advisors had been diligently working on preparations for the infiltration of King’s Landing - believing the goal was only reconnaissance and sedition - not assassination. As the spymaster, Varys took the lead and had worked out the details of a new network of not quite so little birds within the capital. And rather than merely taking Arya to King’s Landing by boat, Varys’ new plan involved Davos going with Arya and Varys' new little birds and looking for opportunities to incite an uprising against Cersei. Davos was best suited for this role - he could sell anyone anything. But the more he was involved, the more it became clear Arya would have to tell him the truth.

Daenerys swooped down on Drogon and shouted to Missandei and Tyrion on the stern of the ship. She spotted a small fishing boat up ahead and several merchant ships were sailing towards them in the distance. The fog and cloud cover prevented her from scouting much to the south, but as far she could see, the approach to Dragonstone looked safe.

Drogon flew off with the queen and her advisors all conferred about the developments and plans for the queen’s fleet docking at Dragonstone. Arya didn’t bother to join them. They never were interested in her input.

“Who fishes in this weather - near Dragonstone?” Davos questioned from below deck, overhearing the conversation. He walked up the steps and added, “Do any of you have the slightest idea about fishing?”

Tyrion began to answer that he grew up at Casterly Rock, but Davos ignored him. “If they are fishing, it’s food for King’s Landing - and if we intend to starve them out - then all ships headin’ to King’s Landing should be set ablaze by those dragons.”

Missandei stated firmly, “The Queen does not want the people to starve. We cannot-”

Frustrated, Davos interrupted, “I think you all fail to understand the concept of a siege. People are goin’ to starve.”

“It’s a single small boat,” Tyrion replied. “What harm can it do?”


	7. The Horn

Daenerys pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck but it was impossible to block the bitterly cold wind that whipped across her face. She knew Drogon wasn’t any happier about the path they were flying. He roared his disapproval, but they had no choice but to head directly into the wind so she could scan the waters below for any approaching ships.

The time she had spent in the North was time the Iron Fleet had unfettered access to the waters around Dragonstone. She had left 1,000 Unsullied there as a garrison to maintain the castle, but all of her ships had remained in White Harbor. So there was no defense from a naval attack.

But so far, there was no sign of the Iron Fleet. She hoped they would be focused on the defense of King’s Landing and wouldn’t be aware of Daenerys’ small group of ships heading back to Dragonstone.

It wouldn’t be long before she would be home, she though. At least, there would be an end to the brutal cold - with a warm fire and a chance to sleep in an actual bed rather than on a ship. But it didn’t feel like a homecoming. Despite how she had yearned for a return to Dragonstone during her childhood in Essos, it didn’t feel like home.

And what would be waiting for her? News from the south regarding what Cersei had done with her army and fleet while Daenerys was in the North? Or a message from Sansa and Bran on some new revelation about her past? Neither was something to look forward to or welcoming.

The past weeks during the long hours flying alone over Westeros had given her much time to mull over everything which had happened. Her mind kept coming back to everything she had learned about the past, the revelation about Jon’s Targaryen heritage and the truth about what happened to cause Robert’s Rebellion. She regretted saying anything to Sansa and Bran. The more she learned about the past, the more she wished she had stayed in the dark.

She thought of Jorah and she felt her stomach drop - which completely unrelated to anything Drogon was doing. Jorah was gone and this was the time she needed him the most. He wanted to defend her more than anything. But she felt lost without him.

She looked down at the water and through the dense fog, she spotted the small fishing boat again. Hunched over in the front of the boat was a dark figure draped in a heavy black cloak. He had to be as cold as she was. She spotted movement from some men in the rear of the boat and what looked like fishing nets, so there were people alive on the little boat but she wondered if they needed help. She couldn’t imagine what they were doing so far out at sea in such a small vessel.

She began to swoop down to take a closer look but then realized the sight of a large dragon bearing down on them would be terrifying and make the situation worse. She flew up higher into the clouds, heading across Dragonstone to check the other side of the island towards Blackwater Bay for the Iron Fleet.

She looked behind her to see if Rhaegal had followed, but she couldn’t see him through all of the clouds and fog. The journey had been especially daunting for Rhaegal whose injuries still hadn’t healed. She would have slowed her pace or turned back to look for him, but she hoped Rhaegal had already flown to Dragonstone and taken refuge in one of the caves to rest.

As Drogon flew past the castle on Dragonstone, there was a bone-chilling deep wail that cut through the air like a knife. Before she could determine what the noise might be, Drogon began to thrash his head violently. He went into a dive towards the rocky cliff below. Desperately, Daenerys tried to get him under her control but he would not obey any of her commands.

Behind her, she heard a deep bellowing cry. She jerked around, trying to see in the dim morning light what was going on, and spotted flames breaking through the fog.

She tried to turn Drogon around to see what had happened, but it was difficult enough to merely hold on. Drogon continued to erratically fly along the coast of Dragonstone, at times nearly scraping up against the cliffs.

As she wondered if jumping off might be her only hope of survival, Drogon began to regain his composure. She had a chance to get her bearings and look behind her again. In the distance, thick black smoke now mingled with fog and steam which obscured her view.

She raced on Drogon towards the direction of her small fleet, terrified of what might have happened. But before she could get back across the island, she heard the unnatural wail in the distance. The eery sound seemed too low for her to even hear, but she could feel it resonating like a pulse passing through her.

Again, Drogon reacted with fury and fear, writhing in pain then flying up in a near-vertical climb in an attempt to get away from the sound. Daenerys clung to his back for dear life, unable to control him.

Her hands were slick with sweat and she slipped. She reached out, latching onto one of the dragon’s scales. But she swung awkwardly to the side of Drogon’s broad neck. As she tried to pull herself back onto Drogon’s back, something else drew her attention over the horizon. Coming out of the darkness from Blackwater Bay were hundreds of black sails.

With all her might, she flung herself back onto the dragon’s back and urged him to obey her commands. She had to reach the Iron Fleet and stop them before they could attack her small group of ships. But she had no idea what the condition of her ships even was in. She feared the worse, but that was outside of her control.

Drogon leveled out and took several large beats with his wings as he charged towards the approaching ships. Daenerys looked out over the horizon, planning her attack, but there was another pulse from the terrifying sound that ripped through the sky and sent Drogon into another frenzy.

He swooped down to the water and turned around heading back past Dragonstone and to the northeast - towards the queen’s fleet.

As she got closer, the source of the fire became clear - all of her ships were burning. She saw small dots in the water - people perhaps? She prayed to the gods that some had escaped the burning carnage but what good would that do if they froze to death in the icy sea?

She saw the fishing boat again - at first relieved that the fishermen were not caught up in the destruction. But then she noticed a cloaked figure standing at the bow with a massive black horn. He looked up at her with a crooked smile and blew on the horn.

The horn’s call echoed through her causing her to nearly lose her grip on Drogon as he again began writhing in agony. As she struggled to once again regain control of the gigantic dragon, she eyed below a small rowboat. Onboard she could tell were several Unsullied along with other figures, but she couldn’t make out who.

She leaned off the side of Drogon to get a closer look at the rowboat and she felt something hit her head. It took a moment for her to realize what had happened. All she could see and feel was a tangle of wings and claws - all ripping and tearing at her.

Rhaegal had come out of nowhere. His talons grabbed her, but Drogon had turned then rolled to his side, so he could face his brother and protect their mother.

There was absolutely nothing Daenerys could do but try to maintain her grasp on Drogon. She buried her head into his neck, trying to protect herself and not wanting to even see what was happening. She could hear the two dragons growl and roar, then a shriek of pain. She felt Drogon drop and she worried he was hurt, but she opened her eyes to see Rhaegal feet in front of her, flying away as Drogon chased after him. 

She tried with all her might to get control over Drogon, but he wouldn’t listen to her. She wasn’t sure if it was the horn’s influence or if he was reacting to Rhaegal’s attack on her. The injured Rhaegal was clearly no match for Drogon and he easily caught up with his brother. Rhaegar roared back, tried to fend off the attack, but he too exhausted. Drogon charged at him and bit down his brother’s neck with his powerful jaw.

Panic-stricken, Daenerys pleaded with Drogon, but nothing she said or did matter. Helpless, Rhaegal thrashed about, his wings flailing as he trying to break free from Drogon’s clenched jaw. But that further enraged Drogon. He continued in a berserker rage, delivering a final blow to Rhaegal’s neck. Rhaegel let out one last whimper and went limp.

Drogon dropped his brother and he plummeted into the water. Daenerys turned to watch where he had fallen - desperate to see Rhaegal fly out of the water. But she saw nothing.

She urged Drogon to circle back - to look for Rhaegal - but over her shoulder, she felt something fly past her. Below, she saw the Iron Fleet approaching and more of the massive crossbow bolts hurtling towards her.

She was able to move Drogon out of the way of one of the bolts, but he growled his disapproval at her when she tried to get him to move to his left. Without the ability to be in complete control of her dragon, there was no possible way she could avoid all their bolts. She had to retreat to the safety of Dragonstone or she would lose both of her dragons. She had to protect her remaining child at all costs.


End file.
